


Interlude

by Niitza



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s10e02 Reichenbach, F/M, Ficlet, M/M, Season/Series 10 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niitza/pseuds/Niitza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't find Castiel in the gardens, nor in the library. No, when she saw him—and as she did something in her jumped like a startled hare, an in-held breath, then squeezed at the exhausted slump of his shoulders, the broken look in his eyes—he was standing in one of the corridors, the one holding private rooms, hesitating in front of an open door.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>A post 10x02 speculation fic.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

She didn't find Castiel in the gardens, nor in the library. No, when she saw him—and as she did something in her jumped like a startled hare, an in-held breath, then squeezed at the exhausted slump of his shoulders, the broken look in his eyes—he was standing in one of the corridors, the one holding private rooms, hesitating in front of an open door.

"Cas-" she started to call, but he didn't hear her, didn't even notice her. He stepped through the doorway.

"Dean," she heard him say in a voice that, had he still had his grace, would have resounded with innumerable, indescribable songs.

There was no answer. Yet when she reached the room and glanced inside she saw that Dean Winchester was indeed in there, sitting on the side of a bed—his bed, Hannah assumed—, bent forward, his head buried in his hands. Castiel had sat beside him, close, their shoulders brushing. His head was turned and tilted as if he was trying to peer between the man's fingers, to catch his eye.

Dean mumbled something Hannah didn't catch and Castiel straightened with a short, sharp breath. His hands unfolded from where they'd been resting in his lap and the left one rose to clasp the human on the nape, firm like a grip on a disobedient child.

"You listen to me, Dean Winchester," he said, almost growled, and in surprise Dean Winchester looked up. He let himself be pulled towards Castiel, pliant and trusting, listened as Castiel spoke, too low for Hannah to hear.

He spoke for a long time. His hold on Dean never wavered, never weakened, and after a while the man simply rested his head on the angel's shoulder to relieve his head and back from the awkward bend. He listened.

Castiel's words dried up in the end, and Dean replied just as low, a soft undistinguishable rumble. They exchanged sentences back and forth, quiet and private, then segued into silence.

They didn't move.

Hannah, still unnoticed, realized that she should leave, should have left even before the conversation had started. Yet she couldn't look away from Castiel's hand still cupping Dean's nape, from the top of Dean's head as it lay right above Castiel's heart, listening to its beat maybe. The sight made something in her churn and ache.

She would've torn herself away, though, unwilling to be caught, if in that second Dean hadn't asked:

"How much time do you have left?"

After that she couldn't leave before she'd heard Castiel's answer on that topic he constantly shirked when she tried to broach it.

"Not long," Castiel admitted after a while and something in her twisted at hearing him being honest with a human the way he'd always refused to be with her.

"Hannah says," Dean replied, and she startled at the sound of her name. "Some of your grace is still out there somewhere."

Castiel's shoulders tensed, he started to protest at once. "Dean-"

"Relax," Dean cut him off, not moving. "I'm not making a deal with that douche, ever. Dick knifed me, remember?"

Castiel's fingers, which had been massaging Dean's nape, paused.

Yes, he remembered.

He took a breath, undoubtedly ready to deliver the same speech he'd given Hannah.

"I don't-"

"What?" Dean broke in before Castiel had even begun, a soft huff following the word. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Castiel's breath hitched, his head and shoulders dropped in what might have been defeat—but Hannah caught the corner of a smile on his lips, fond and helpless.

Dean turned his head, burying his nose against Castiel's chest and he breathed in as his right arm wrapped around the angel's waist.

"I'm gonna find it, though. I'm gonna save you," he mumbled, almost too faint to hear. "That's what's gonna help me. That's the only thing that can help me, Cas."

Hannah expected Castiel to refuse, to protest, but the angel only tightened his hold on the hunter's nape and let out a breath. "Okay, Dean," he murmured. "Okay." He brushed his cheek against the hunter's hair. "We'll save each other, then."

From where she stood Hannah couldn't see Dean's face but somehow she guessed the smile on his lips in the silence that followed, in the squeeze of his arm around Castiel's waist. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She left hastily, noisily probably, but she was pretty sure neither of them noticed.


End file.
